


I Wanna Hold Your Hand

by DollyPop



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Height Differences, Holding Hands, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:11:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPop/pseuds/DollyPop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She always did want to hold his hand, even as a girl. She supposed she should take what she could get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Hold Your Hand

The first time she understood. They were in the middle of a huge Meister-Weapon conference and there was all too much chance that she would get stomped by the crowd of taller people, especially when one pairing included an actual lawn mower as a weapon partner that would, in all seriousness, turn her ass to grass.

But, of course, because it was the first time, when Stein reached down and grasped her hand, she had gasped at the iciness of his fingers, her body going tense immediately as he moved her close to him, her heart racing. She was certain he could feel the jump in her pulse from the fact that he had placed his thumb over the inside of her wrist.

She had managed to stutter out a “Stein? What?”, her face feeling warm as she looked up at him.

“You’ll get lost in an instant,” he’d told her, rolling his eyes from behind his glasses and pulling her along beside him, and for a moment, her legs struggled to keep up, her stride already small enough due to her height and only hindered further due to the somewhat restricting nature of her long skirt. But Stein shortened his steps and she found that she could keep up with him as a result and she was too giddy to puff up her cheeks and insist that she wasn’t going to get lost.

She always did want to hold his hand, even as a girl. She supposed she should take what she could get.

The truth of the matter was that Stein was massive. He was a huge, hulking man who demanded space and she appreciated that he would share that space with her. Practically everyone else found his size terrifying. Oftentimes, she wondered if she was the only one who took comfort in it.

It was nice to know that she would get to live to see the next day because he was going to take her safety into consideration. The lawn mower didn’t stand a chance. They had gone through the entire event without so much as her toe being stepped on, and, afterward, as they retired to their hotel room’s, she’d stood in the doorway of his suite and quietly thanked him, her head craned back so she could look him in the eyes, smiling softly.

She’d assumed, inaccurately, that it would just be a one off deal. 

* * *

 

Stein only ever touched her when something was wrong, before. When she was crying, or upset, or when she so desperately needed to be held and he was her Meister so he knew what she wanted even without words so he’d hug her, quietly, with no pomp and circumstance. He was a good partner, careful, and aware of what she needed and wanted. But she knew it was a learned effort on his part. She remembered when they were young and he was put off by anyone trying to touch him.

As a grown man, though, he seemed okay with letting certain others hug him, with reaching for her. But she was still surprised when he grabbed her hand, again, for the second time. Death City’s market area was massive, and multiple people were always around, never bothering to look down and see if a much smaller than average Marie was in their way. He had come with her because she’d put her foot down: if he wanted to eat, he was damn well going to shop. And he came with her without any complaint, too! (Well, save for the few under his breath that she pretended not to hear, about how she was pulling him away from his research.)

She figured he would never go if he wasn’t completely okay with it, anyway.

Still, after she was bumped into twice, nearly getting lost, he had reached down and grasped her wrist wordlessly, gently tugging her along and she’d looked up at him with a wide eye, her lower lip dropping down.

“You’ll end up in Arizona, at this rate,” he’d muttered, pulling her to the Butcher’s stall because he was more carnivore than man most of the time, and she knew it was a jab at her sense of direction, but his hand was gentle against hers, and she had always wanted to hold hands with him, regardless of reason. Besides, she understood. She really  _would_  end up in Arizona.

She appreciated it that time, too, because his ridiculous genetics made it so that he was too tall to ignore, and every single cart and pedestrian gave him a wide net of space which Marie used to her advantage to swing the shopping basket to and fro as she perused the stalls.

* * *

 

In a lot of ways, she was happy about his sporadic hand holding. Though it was always accompanied with a slight sigh through his nose, as though this were simply something he had to do, she found him comforting.

Her gentle giant.

Or, rather, not so gentle to anyone but a very, very select few. But she figured that was a bit of a mouthful. And if she ever called him that, he’d likely scoff, anyway. Still, he certainly made things easier for her, reaching for boxes on shelves too tall for her or making sure that she had room to breathe when they were being crowded in at all sides.

Eventually, it became commonplace for him to reach down and grasp her tiny hand within his own. In fact, she didn’t even jolt at the fact that his fingers were icy cold, creeping down the flat of her forearm before he warmed his hands with her own, since she was always particularly warm due to her wavelength. It was always when there was ample reason for him to do so.

He would reach for her when they were in airports, trying to board a plane to take their newest mission, or in packed restaurants she would disappear in if they didn’t remain linked. She always understood. She was a small woman, barely 4 foot 8, and he had over two feet of height on her, making it easy for her to get lost in large crowds, or for her to get stepped on.

His short jokes were certainly not as appreciated. And the one time he rested his arm atop her head as though she were some sort of armrest resulted in him doubling over, clutching his stomach after she elbowed him, huffing.

Regardless, she was so used to his familiar, cool fingers clutching her tiny hand, so accustomed to him coming in slightly closer to her, matching their wavelengths and shortening his stride so they could walk side by side together, that she didn’t find anything off-putting or strange when he grasped her wrist once more, the pads of his fingertips playing over her pulse, drumming to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

That is, she didn’t find anything strange in it until Spirit practically choked on his tongue, and when she looked at him, his eyes were firmly locked on the space between her and Stein, where their hands were interlinked and she realized that there was barely anyone around at all.

Marie’s face went bright pink, her fingers twitching in Stein’s grasp, but he didn’t seem to notice, only yawning and slumping in on himself a little more. The meetings they had in the mornings, all gathered in the Death Room to talk about lesson plans wasn’t uncommon, and the teachers had gathered around, all of them looking tired and irritated at being beckoned a good hour and a half before the actual school day started.

There was barely anyone around, however. Large auditoriums where the students were shuffling along, the hallways, heck, even classrooms she understood.

This? When it was just Spirit and Mira and Sid and a few of the other teachers loitering around, where there was plenty of space as they all waited for Death, this she didn’t understand at all.

“S-Stein,” Marie managed to choke out, and, as though suddenly awakened, he immediately looked down at her, his eyes looking all over her face for the sign of something, anything, that was amiss with her.

“Mm? What?” he asked, his eyes finally settling, his shoulders relaxing just barely.

Marie coughed once, clenching his hand within hers and raising an eyebrow, trying to tune out Spirit’s snickering. But, despite her rather obvious hint to look at their linked hands, he only furrowed his brow.

“Are you ill? I told you we should have called out, today.”

Pfft. The lazy man. He only wanted to call out because he didn’t want to show up to the meeting that morning, but Spirit choked once more at the sound of “we” and Marie’s face pinked further.

It was only when he reached up with his other hand, the one he never checked temperatures with, that she understood that what Stein was doing was deliberate. Her eye went even wider as she locked onto his gaze, the back of his left hand feeling for her temperature.

He always, always favored his right. No matter what. He was ambidextrous, but he always used his right hand in another effort to fit in.

“N-no. I feel fine,” she said.

“You’re warm.”

“Yeah. . .” she replied, squeezing his hand in hers once more, and he, finally, looked down even further, seeing where their hands were linked and she blinked at him, more than surprised at seeing the slightest flush color his ears.

They were always, always in a low level of resonance, and he knew her, and she knew him. So when his soul shimmered with minor embarrassment and he moved to pull his hand away, a ‘sorry’ echoing through his wavelength, she clutched his hand tighter, smiling, her eye sparkling.

The silly man.

If he wanted to hold her hand, all he had to do was ask.


End file.
